McCallum Quintuplets (9 page)

“Could be,” Zach answered as the elevator doors opened. “Well, I'm off. There's a stack of medical journals at home with my name on them, I'm afraid. See you tomorrow?”

Madeline nodded, waved and then stood back as the elevator doors slid closed, opening again on the second floor. She waved hello to the nurses on duty and went directly into Maggie's room, to find her patient sitting on the side of the bed, already dressed to go home.

“Now this is a sight to gladden my heart, even on such a gray and rainy day,” Madeline said. “Where's Adam?”

“Oh, he had to go to the office. Something about having our insurance cards photocopied, or something like that.” Then Maggie tipped her head, smiled. “You know,
Madeline, it was pretty intense in here last night, but I did notice. I'm noticing again this morning. You look
terrific.
”

Madeline couldn't help herself. She smiled, raised a hand to pat at her loose curls. “Thank you. I…I, well, I bought a new wardrobe. It was either that or my friends were going to burn everything I owned and leave me with nothing to wear.”

“Really? I'll bet there's a story behind that,” Maggie said, then took hold of Madeline's hand as she lowered her arm. “And this! I saw it last night. I mean, who could help it? Diamonds sparkle so beautifully in overhead lights, don't they? Is it new?”

Madeline covered the bracelet with her left hand. “Yes, as a matter of fact it is. A birthday present, actually. I just got it last night.”

“Your birthday was yesterday? Oh, Madeline, I'm so sorry. I imagine the hospital was the very last place you wanted to be last night. Especially after that gift. Somebody is very serious about you, Madeline. Can you give me a hint?”

Madeline could feel the blood draining from her cheeks. “Oh, no, no. You've got that wrong, Maggie. The bracelet is from a friend.”

“Then he's a very
good
friend,” Maggie said, and beckoned to her husband, who'd just walked into the room. “Adam, look at this bracelet. Would you call that a gift from a good friend? Come on, Madeline, stop covering it up and show Adam.”

Sighing, Madeline gave in and did as Maggie asked, holding out her arm so Adam could look at the bracelet.

Adam gave a low whistle. “A friend, huh? Madeline, I'm no expert, but I'd say at least one of you has a different definition of the word
friend.
”

Madeline felt the color rising into her cheeks. Her entire body seemed to blush. “What…what do you mean?”

“Maybe I can help,” Maggie said as Adam hovered over her, helping her to her feet. “Men—and I'm right, I imagine, that the bracelet came from a man?—well, unless they're millionaires, they do
not
give diamond bracelets to good friends. They give them to
girl
friends.
Serious
girlfriends. Getting ready to go down on one knee and propose to her type girlfriends.”

As Madeline held out her arm, stared at the bracelet, Maggie asked, “Tell me. This friend? What did he buy you last year, if you knew him last year?”

“Oh, we've been friends for fifteen years,” Madeline answered, her ears sort of buzzing, snatches of things Ian had said to her last night coming into her mind, confusing her, beginning to delight her.

“Fifteen years?” Adam chuckled. “Sort of a slow starter, isn't he?”

“Adam, stop it,” Maggie told him, playfully slapping at his arm. “Come on, Madeline, tell us. What did he give you for your birthday last year?”

“A food processor,” Madeline mumbled into the cowl neckline of her angora sweater, risking another mouthful of angora.

“What? I didn't hear that.” Maggie prodded her.

“A food processor, Maggie. She said he gave her a food processor,” Adam said helpfully.

“A food processor? And now a diamond bracelet?” Maggie gave Madeline a quick hug. “Oh, I'm so happy for you!”

Madeline vaguely heard Maggie through the buzzing in her ears, over the loud pounding of her heart. “Um…thank you,” she said. “But it's not like he's
said
anything yet. He just gave me the bracelet.”

“See? I said slow starter, didn't I?” Adam said, earning himself a very stern look from his wife.

“Maybe we interrupted him?” Maggie asked, walking alongside Madeline on their way to the elevators. “Did we interrupt you last night, Madeline? It wasn't quite midnight, so we could have, couldn't we?”

“Hmm?” Madeline knew Maggie had said something, but she hadn't really heard it. She held out her hand to Adam, then to Maggie, mumbled something about seeing the two of them on their next visit to the unit. Then she walked into the elevator, not realizing that the doors closed with both Maggie and Adam still standing in the hallway, watching her, smiling as they watched her.

She had to go home. She really,
really
had to go home, although how she got there would remain a mystery to her for the rest of her life.

“Ian!” she called as she banged on his apartment door, then tried the doorknob and, finding the door unlocked, went inside, slamming the door behind her. She stuck out her tongue, removed yet another bit of angora fuzz, rubbed it between her fingertips. “Ian Russell, where are you?”

He appeared at the mouth of the hallway that led to his bedroom, hopping as he tried to get his second leg into his jeans. “What? Maddie? What's wrong? Is the building on fire? Are you hurt?”

Just look at him.
Maddie tried not to smile as he pulled up his jeans, zipped them, sucked in his already flat gut as he closed the button. His chest was bare, which would probably make this easier, and his hair was still damp from the shower. “You had something to say to me?” she asked, walking to the couch, stepping out of her shoes as she went, then sitting down, making herself comfortable.

“What?” Ian came around the couch, stood in front of the coffee table. “
Now
you want to talk? Dammit, Maddie, I used to think I understood you.”

“That goes both ways, Ian. I used to think I understood you, too.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, raking a hand through his hair, obviously searching for words, any words at all. “So did I. But not lately. Lately, I just think maybe I've lost my mind.”

“Oh, well, that's flattering,” Madeline said, feeling more confident by the moment. She didn't know why and didn't want to examine the why of any of it, but Adam and Maggie McCallum's words had opened her eyes to a whole new world of possibilities.

When she put those possibilities together with a few things Ian had said last night—words about how he hadn't just gone wild because of a tangerine blouse but had already started looking at her in a new way a few weeks ago? And then the bracelet, instead of a food processor or a telescope? And that kiss? The way he'd held her? The way he'd touched her?

Ian pointed at the couch. “May I sit down?”

She nodded, smiled. “It's your couch.”

Ian took a single step in the direction of the couch, then hesitated, looked at her. “Do you want a soda? I do. My…my mouth is kind of dry all of a sudden.”

Oh, this was fun. This was really
fun.
Was it possible for a person to get drunk on angora fibers? “I'm okay,” she said, “but you go ahead. Get a soda if you need it.”

“It's not that I
need
—oh, hell, Maddie! What are we doing here? Is this any kind of conversation? I don't think so. I'm sitting down now,” he announced, then sat, his bare feet flat on the floor, his hands on his knees, his head facing forward. “There. I'm sitting.”

And Madeline was sitting.

They were both sitting.

Sitting silently.

Not moving.

Madeline played with her new bracelet, turning it round and round her wrist.

Ian swallowed hard, coughed into his hand.

The clock on the mantel struck twelve times, announcing the hour.

Madeline waited. She knew this man. She'd known this man forever; he'd been a part of her forever. If she said something now, he'd say something back, and after the way he'd tied his tongue into knots last night, she didn't think having a conversation was the way to go. Better he should give her a quick monologue, without interruptions.

So she'd just wait. Let him say what was on his mind without any prompting. He'd figure out a way.

“I, um, I really didn't explain myself very well last night, Maddie,” he said at last, and she kept facing forward, careful not to do anything that would interrupt his flow of words. “And then you interrupted me, wouldn't let me finish….”

Madeline's eyes widened, and she bit her tongue so that she wouldn't respond. Especially since he was right. She had interrupted him. She hadn't let him finish what he had been trying to say.

“Well…not that we're going to rehash that,” Ian said, his knuckles white as he squeezed his hands on his kneecaps. “But what I was saying was that I'd been thinking about our relationship—our friendship—the past couple of weeks, and about how I'd feel if you ever weren't a…a part of my life.”

Now she did turn, look at him. Not be a part of his
life? How could he think such a thing? “I'd never leave you, Ian. I couldn't.”

He sort of nodded, pressed the palm of his hand against his mouth, then slipped his hand around so that he was squeezing the back of his neck. Her heart broke for him. “Oh, God, why is this so difficult? Am I that afraid that you meant what you said last night? That you loved me once, but think of me now as just your good friend? Have I blown it with my lousy timing, Maddie? Please tell me I haven't blown it.”

Maddie put her hand on his. “You haven't blown it, Ian. But are you sure? Are
you
really sure?”

He took her hand in his, raised it to his lips. “I love you, Maddie. I'm sure I love you. I'm sure I'm
in love
with you. I don't know how it happened, when it happened, but if you ever left me I don't know what I'd do. I just don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Oh, Ian,” Madeline said, blinking back tears. “There's a difference between the two of us being a
habit
and being in love. Are you sure?”

“That's the question, isn't it, Maddie? But it's the one I have to ask you. Are
you
sure? I know what you said last night, that you loved me a long time ago. But what about now? Could you still love a man too thick to see what's been right in front of him all these years?”

“I could try,” she answered, caught between laughter and tears. “I could certainly try.”

She watched as the tic that had been working in Ian's cheek disappeared, as his hunched shoulders relaxed…as that crooked smile crept onto his face.

“Your beeper,” he said, holding out a hand, palm up. “Come on, Maddie, you're not on call. Give it over.”

She reached under her sweater, unclipped the beeper from her waistband, handed it to him.

He took it, turned it off, set it on the coffee table. “Okay, then,” he said, grinning wickedly as he reached for her. “Now…where were we?”

 

I
AN RUBBED
a hand towel over his hair as he came out of the bathroom, a large bath towel wrapped around his waist, and looked at the bed.

Maddie still slept soundly, probably a combination of having worked at the hospital until nine last night and then having to put up with an ardent fiancé when she finally got home—not that she complained, the sweetheart.

He'd yet to see any of her new nightgowns or pajamas, although she told him she'd gone back to the mall with Annabelle one day last week and heated up her plastic one more time. But, as far as he knew, her purchases were still in bags dumped on her bedroom floor, and he was getting pretty darn used to seeing Maddie coming toward his bed, dressed in one of his old T-shirts, her long legs bare.

What time was it? He looked at the bedside clock and smiled. He had to meet Gregg at ten, but it was only eight-thirty. Plenty of time.

He walked to the bed, bent low over Maddie and stroked her soft curls from her cheek. “Maddie?” he said softly. “Maddie, I need my T-shirt.”

“Hmm?” She moaned, turning onto her back, blinking her eyes several times, trying to focus as she looked at him. “You need your—oh, don't be silly. You can't wear this. I slept in it.”

“True, but I need it,” he said, suppressing a grin. “I need it on the floor, hanging from the overhead light, thrown over the back of a chair—you name it. I need it anywhere except on you. It's blocking my view.”

Maddie raised her arms, stretched like a contented cat. “You know, Ian, if I'd realized what a
thing
you've got about my breasts, we could have gotten where we are a whole lot faster.”

“You're just saying that because it's true,” he told her as she reached for the towel around his waist. “Hey, who said you could do that?”

“I can't?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Then tell me, why am I awake?”

“So I can show you something,” Ian said, disengaging her grip from the towel and walking over to grab a magazine from the top of his dresser. “I picked this up yesterday,” he said, returning to the bed, sitting down on the edge as he held the magazine cover so that Maddie could see it.

“A
bridal
magazine? You actually stood in line at some checkout counter with a
bridal
magazine? Good Lord, Ian, you
are
in love, aren't you?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Was there ever any doubt? Anyway, I was looking through it last night, before you got home, and I found something we definitely have to have.”

“Oh, really?” Madeline said, pushing herself up against the pillows. “What is it? His and hers silver shoehorns? Because I'm really sorry I broke your plastic one putting on those stupid boots, but I promised to get you a new one.”